The 15th of each month still overwhelms me, now that I am engrossed in reality. Nothing lasts forever. Not the good days, nor the bad ones.
Sorrow exhausts me. It continues to reach deep inside my core. Some days it stabs. To be anatomically precise, sorrow lives in the lungs. Sometimes I feel deeply sad with no provocation. It physically aches. Other times the voids become unbearable and the tears unstoppable. I haven't mastered the skills of feeling grateful when I am in that space. I would like to, some day.
Human memories are unreliable. What I choose to reconstruct from my memories becomes my reality.
My present reality remains that the 15th of each month haunts me because it has been unpredictable. I have not yet learned to embrace the 15th. What if I never learn to embrace it? Then I would just fear it, resist it, suffer from it.
Just like February 15. March 15. April 15. May 15. And June 15. I want the calendar to skip July 15. Just this once; please. I will even go to the gym... Luckily, nothing lasts forever.
Nature is the best lover. She heals; she replenishes; restores; embraces.
Good days will turn, bad days WILL end. As will the 15th of each month.
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| Nature at 3100' in friend Scobie's plane. Restoration. |
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